or, where
appeared a gentleman of high, dignified bearing. He was tall and
vigorous, like a German oak; the head of a Jupiter surmounted his broad
shoulders and chest. Time, with its wrinkling hand, had tried in vain to
deform the imperishable beauty of that countenance; age could not touch
the charm and dignity of his features; the grace of youth still played
on his classic lips, and the ardor of a young heart was beaming from his
dark eyes as they looked calmly at the emperor.

Napoleon, continuing to eat, beckoned Goethe, with a careless wave of
his hand, to approach. He complied, and stood in front of the table,
opposite the emperor, who looked up, and, turning with an expression of
surprise to Talleyrand, pointed to Goethe, and exclaimed, "Ah, that is a
man!"[42] An imperceptible smile overspread the poet's countenance, and
he bowed in silence.

[Footnote 42: "_Voila un homme_!" These words created a great sensation
at the time, and were highly appreciated by the admirers of Goethe, as
well as by the great poet himself. His correspondence with friends
contains numerous allusions to them.--Vide "Riemer's Letters to and from
Goethe," p. 325.]

"How old are you, M. von Goethe?" asked Napoleon.

"Sire, I am in my sixtieth year."

"In your sixtieth year, and yet you have the appearance of a youth! Ah,
it is evident that perpetual intercourse with the muses has imparted
external youth to you."

"Sire, that is true," exclaimed Daru, "the muse of Goethe is that of
youth, beauty, and grace. Germany justly calls him her greatest poet,
and does homage with well-grounded enthusiasm to the author of 'Faust,'
of 'Werther,' and of so many other master-pieces."

"I believe you have also written tragedies?" asked Napoleon.

"Sire, I have made some attempts," replied Goethe, smiling. "But the
applause of my countrymen cannot blind me as to the real value of my
dramas. I believe it is very difficult, if not impossible, for a German
poet to write real tragedies, which fulfil the higher requirements of
art, and withal those of the stage. I must confess that my tragedies are
not so adapted."

"Sire," said Daru, "M. von Goethe has also translated Voltaire's
'Mohammed.'"

"That is not a good tragedy," said Napoleon. "Voltaire has sinned
against history and the human heart. He has prostituted the character of
Mohammed by petty intrigues. He makes a man, who revolutionized the
world, act like an infamous criminal deserving the